Kronos has past over all the
Earth and so begins another
Year, let it be a year of hope.
His sickle fell mercilessly on
Many ears of corn in 2020
But he is the god of time. He
Can be such an all-devouring
Destructive force, hopefully now
Resting; the cost was too high.
New Year streets now empty,
Verdigris statues stand looking
casting with green weary eyes.
A thoroughfare of pigeons and
Gulls and tired closed shops;
Empty cafe's with yesterday's
News read by gusts of wind.
Let those gusts of wind bring us
That long awaited hope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A masterfully written poem!
Thank you Kostas: -)